


Don't look, Steve.

by RabbitPie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Couches, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tea, The Author upset themself with Bucky feels and had to write some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitPie/pseuds/RabbitPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment of fluff for a frazzled author; here to be shared:</p><p>“Just… don't look.”<br/>That's the stipulation Bucky sets.<br/>Of course, Steve has no idea what he's talking about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't look, Steve.

“Just… don't look.”

That's the stipulation Bucky sets.

Of course, Steve has no idea what he's talking about.

 

Steve puts his book down – no no no don't do that – hesitantly on the kitchen table, fingers hovering over the cover as his body leans forward. He's three meters away. But he's too close. No, it's not Steve that's too close, it's that inquiring expression on his face that's too intimate. Bucky shakes his head violently like he's waving off a fly.

“Pick up the book.”

Steve brings it to his chest, and his lips pout like he's going to ask a question – not now.

Bucky moves into Steve's space. He flutters his hands at Steve: get back to the living room. The inquiry vanishes from Steve's face and nods cockily.

 

Bucky can still see the kitchen, and he can't see past the white snow that falls into his vision.

 

Steve is gone when it fades. Gone. No not gone he's just down the hall. You told him to go down there a moment ago. But who knows that he really did as asked? Certainly not Bucky. It's an assumption that has no strength to its foundations. He races down the hall and his hand smacks against the doorframe of the parlor.

Steve flinches, a little, but he doesn't look up from the book.

Bucky's shoulders, which feel like they're hovering up around his ears, fall slowly. Steve's still here, and he's not looking.

He doesn't look when Bucky eases himself down next to him on the couch. Bucky repeats, to make sure: “don't look.” A jumble of sound comes out instead.

Well, if Steve didn't listen, he can always run.

Except… that thought appeared in a moment of bravado and now it's gone. This isn't a time he can be brave—yes he can. He can turn this all off and wall it off and never feel it again--

It's not quite bravery, but he takes some of the blankness for a moment. The blankness can't feel, so it doesn't need determination. The blankness puts its hand on Steve's--

And Bucky squeezes Steve's hand and lets out a breath.

He squeezes eyes shut and it sends a circus of colours to play before his eyes. All pink and blue on a red curtain. His mouth tastes like vomit, and his eyes are open but he can't see. Pressure squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back.

Huh, not sure he asked his hand to do that.

The colours go on, and on, and on, until fragments of memory push aside the kalodescope of his retina.

He doesn't let the images become clear, or real. His control is too strong for that. But nothing can stop the feelings roaring up from the blackness he won't light a candle to.

It hurts.

 

With his right thumb, Steve releases a page in is book, and it makes a little crumple-rustle paper sound before he traps it with his left hand, and resumes reading. Bucky feels the hand twitch in his own as it moves.

 

“Watcha reading?”

He's sitting on the floor.

“Sorry?” Steve asks.

Bucky's kneeling on the floor and his face is in the cushions next to Steve's thigh. The cushion is wet, gah, he's cried. Shit. He jerks his face off the seat, and mutters, “Never mind. Wait a sec.”

 

In the kitchen, Bucky ponders the tea bags, and ends up lucky-dipping. His hands neatly do what he wants them too, and the room is clear. There is no mental snow. He brings Steve the tea and settles back.

Steve raises his eyebrows over the top of his cup. “You're welcome.”

Bucky grumbles. “The correct response is 'Thank you'”


End file.
